In a spacious and luxurious office, a handsome middle-aged white man put down the phone in his hand and rubbed his brow feebly. Then he picked up the mobile phone next to him and dialed a familiar number: "Hey, honey, the matter is settled. I have sent the boy out."
Hollis, who was also standing in her office, said with a serious expression: "Where did you let him go?"
"My dear, you know the rules. It's a matter of state secrets. I can't tell you."
"Then tell me, is it dangerous where he went?"
The man blinked and replied cautiously: "Well, within the scope of my ability, the place he went to has the lowest risk factor."
Yes, no matter how chaotic Mexico is, it is still safer than the battlefields in the Middle East, the secret war between Europe and Mauritius, and the turmoil in Africa.
"Alas" Hollis sighed, turned to look at the file with Edmund's photo nailed on the desk, and said coldly, "How long can it take?"
"It must take a week anyway," the man muttered. "There are not many clues, and since you are not familiar with the place, it will take you two or three days just to find the target."
After hanging up the phone, the man let out a long breath and looked at the documents laid out in front of him. The first one was a recent bust of Sherron.
If Sherron saw these documents, he would probably break out in a cold sweat. In addition to the most basic personal information, it also contains information on all the cases he has participated in since entering nia.
Among them are three cases: the snake-infected flight, the woman in white and the Last Stand.
Especially in the folder of "The Woman in White", in addition to the detailed witness records, there are also all the old case files that Sherron has been looking for, the map marked with a pencil, and the copy of "Bess" that he copied away. Fulgren's original case file.
After reading the documents carefully again, the man snorted and whispered lightly: "This kid is a bit interesting."
After more than an hour of flying, the helicopter landed next to a remote road. On the road, there were already three pickup trucks waiting for Sherren.
Without any nonsense, Xie Lun got in the car directly, and the three pickup trucks immediately started and drove away.
In the pickup truck, sitting in the passenger seat was a man wearing sunglasses and a beard. He casually handed a black backpack to Xie Lun and said solemnly: "There are things you need in it, keep it carefully."
Sherron unzipped his backpack and found that in addition to two black M9 pistols, four magazines, and a stack of green banknotes, there was also a set of personal identification documents in a plastic bag.
When I opened my ID, I saw a new name "Jie Lunzhou" printed next to my mugshot.
Xie Lun raised his eyebrows and looked at the beard in front of him suspiciously. The bearded man shrugged: "What's wrong? I don't understand Chinese. I finally found this name on the Internet. Is there any problem?"
"Forget it," Xie Lun put away the certificate, "Although in terms of talent, he is a little better than me. But in terms of handsomeness, I am still a little better than him."
Then the car became quiet again, and no one on either side spoke anymore. Xie Lun didn't bother to inquire about the identities of Beard and the others, and the other party was obviously not interested in Xie Lun's purpose.
Three pickup trucks that looked very ordinary drove along the road for more than an hour, and finally arrived at the Mi-Mexico border station under the setting sun.
A large entrance and exit gate uses thick stone piers to divide the road into two halves. The right side is for exporting rice and entering ink, and there are few vehicles, while the left side is for exporting ink and entering rice, and the vehicles are so crowded that you can't see the end.
Unlike the security check on the left, which is as close to an enemy as it is and is so detailed that it almost infringes upon the individual, the security check on the right is just a formality.
The bearded man handed his passport to the security officer who came up. The security officer just looked at it casually, then returned the passport and signaled that he would be allowed to go.
Of course, the stack of U.S. dollars tucked into the passport has disappeared.
By the time the convoy drove into the nearest Mexican town, the sun had already set. The pickup truck parked in front of a very dilapidated hotel, and Bearded gave Sherron a key: "Room 216."
Sherron nodded, took the keys, picked up his backpack and got out of the car. The pickup truck drove away, leaving Sherron alone at the door of the hotel.
Looking at the unkind eyes from both sides of the street, Xie Lun sneered disdainfully, turned around and walked into the hotel without fear. However, he did not go directly to 216, but opened a room on the second floor at the front desk.
I casually handed a green banknote to the front desk, and even the identity registration was waived.
What conditions can you imagine for a hotel room close to the border. The sheets covered with strange spots made Sherron give up the idea of sitting on the bed and resting.
Close the curtains and turn on the lamp.
On the dirt-covered table, he carefully checked the pistol and made sure there was nothing wrong with it before putting the pistol and magazine on him.
After finishing the work, Xie Lun turned off the lamp, sat in front of the table, closed his eyes and meditated.
Time passed by minute by minute, and soon it was late at night. Suddenly Sherron opened his eyes, and a series of gentle footsteps passed by the door of his room.
Sherron slowly stood up and gently opened the curtains a crack. Five unfamiliar SUVs were parked on the street below. A dozen men in floral shirts, holding weapons of varying lengths, stood carelessly on both sides of the vehicles.
Xie Lun's eyes flashed, he drew his pistol, and he calmly prepared for battle.
Soon there was a muffled sound of banging on the door, followed by messy Mexican sounds. A moment later, there was the sound of doors being smashed open in other rooms, and the horrified screams of passengers came one after another.
With a "bang", the door was kicked open.
The person who kicked the door was a dark-skinned Mexican man. Before he could clearly see the situation in the dark room, a transparent hole appeared in his head.
Xie Lun flashed out of the room like a ghost. Several militants in the corridor did not react at all and were shot to death one after another.
You kill a member of Scott's gang and are rewarded with 2 experience points
You shot a Scott gang member.
No wonder the experience value given by the system is so low. The combat effectiveness of these militants is too low. They can just bully ordinary civilians. When they encounter real elite killers, they have no power to resist at all.
Street fighting in narrow corridors is not suitable for shooting with a rifle held levelly. Xie Lun half-crouched, quickly panned left and right, and moved forward rapidly in a "Z" shape.
Within five meters, any militant who was exposed to the muzzle of his gun would be shot in the head.
"54321"
Sherron was calculating the remaining bullets in his pistol in his mind. After firing the last bullet, he swung the pistol and knocked an armed man leaning on the door to the ground with the butt of the gun. Grab the ak from his hand and shoot him in the head.
"Stop, stop," a thug held a woman hostage, put a pistol to her head, and shouted, "Otherwise I will shoot her through the head."
Without hesitation, Xie Lun shot the woman in the thigh. The woman screamed and fell down weakly. Then in the astonished look in the thug's eyes, Xie Lun swept him into a hornet's nest.